


Apricity

by skiiish367



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Harry Potter is Not a Horcrux, Hermione takes shit from no one, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insecure Draco Malfoy, Kidnapping Draco Malfoy.....kinda, M/M, Multi, Protective Harry, Running Away, Self inflicted memory-loss, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-08 05:47:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10379829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skiiish367/pseuds/skiiish367
Summary: The war had been long declared. Honour to loyalty, and thirst for vengeance runs deep on both sides. Everyone must chose a side of the war. Too bad Draco is stuck in the middle.Draco should kill himself. He really should, because if he doesn't someone else will do it for him. The dark side is out to get him for his betrayal and his reputation isn't exactly very high in the light side. Finding himself in a desperate need for help, Draco turns to the Weasley's for help and somehow entangling their lives together.





	1. Meliorism

**Author's Note:**

> Apricity means 'The warmth of the sun in winter'

Molly Weasley was a young,  _well maybe not that young,_  but gentle woman. So she thought.  The world knew better than to get on her bad side. She would stay home make apple pies. Pick up after the mess her children left. Watch them grow up, only to bid them farewell every year. Oh how she adored them.

She sighed and looked around, not a single soul to be seen or heard in miles. Yes, Molly loved peace and quiet, and yes, she sometimes wished that the children went back to Hogwarts overtime she had to pick up after the mess created, but she also got quite lonely. Especially during times like these, when the usual bickering and laughing that filled the house faded as if it had never existed. And it scared Mrs. Weasley. To the point that her breath would quicken every time she saw someone leave the doors of this house. She was afraid. Scratch that. She was  _terrified._  The thought haunted her with every goodbye, that one day, the  _laughter would never return_ and this house would become cold. Distant.  _Empty_.

'No, don't think that way. No bad thoughts Molly! None!'

There wasn't a Fred or George spraying her with sink water. No Ginny chattering constantly about Harry. If it wasn't for Ginny dating that Slytherin boy, she'd think that Ginny had a crush on him. They were all out. Ginny, ofcourse was on a date with her boyfriend and as much as Molly disliked the boy, she went along with it. Fred and George were out working and the golden trio was out shopping. 

Hermione.

Ron.

And Harry.

They were out looking for clothes in the muggle world. 

Her eyes drooped a little with the mention of Harry. Oh the poor boy. Molly was glad Albus had allowed him to stay at hers this winter, rather than making him go back to his aunt and uncle. The pair had hardly fed him enough, and made him work all the time. Molly had seen the damage. It disgusted her to think how someone could be so cruel, but it wasn't like it surprised her. She's seen worse. She's been through the first war, and the memories haunt her still.

When Harry had first come to the Weasley house, he had been thin, frail, and weak. You could even see his ribs. She shuddered at the thought.

But now Harry had grown. Become more muscular. He's stronger now. The fraud, skinny, tiny boy no longer existed. The one that stood here was strong, and brave. 

'Quit it Molly!!! Remember,  _NO_  bad thoughts. So stop! You have a very important job at hand. Think about that instead!'

Molly sighed yet again. It seemed to be becoming a habit. Not that Molly minded. It helped her get things off. She would take in a breath, and let it go, as if letting go of all the worries out with that one breath. 

_'The world will get better. Good comes...good..comes.'_

She needed to forget about the dark thoughts for once. Right now, it were her children that mattered. How was she to take care of her children if she couldn't even take care of herself? 

'You need to stop being so selfish, Molly! Get a hold of yourself.'

The task at her hands was important. Very important. One she must  _not_  mess up on.

Lasagna.

She was to make chicken lasagna today. For the kids. And it must not turn out wrong. Must be  _perfect_ and maybe she had time, she'd make some some coffee cake to go along with  _it._ Cake didn't go with lasagna, but who cares. 

Everyone loves cake, no matter what it is put with.

For Molly Weasley, today was going to be a good day. She was going to make lasagna, and cake, and she would think and spend time with her children. Today was definitely going to be a good day. 

_Oh, but how wrong she had been._

\---------------------

Molly had gotten her ingredients and everything out. The over heating at 345 degrees and the cake batter ready and prepared. Her mind was only on the cooking. She pulled out the cutting board ready to cut the chicken into pieces and hummed the tune to an old ballroom dance song. The one to which she had first danced with Arthur. Oh, those days were a delight. 

'See Molly. That's it. You're doing a good job! Keep up with the positivity!'

The tune continued.

"Hmmm...ba bad a ba ba....hmmm hm hmm hmm ----  _DIIIING!!!!!!_ "

The sound of the door bell startled her. She almost dropped her knife. 

She washed her hands quickly and turned the oven off. The house was soundproof and the windows concealed from the outside world. So the ones outside wouldn't be able to hear or see the ones inside. She'd put the spell around it for safety. Fred and George had teased her for being so paranoid. It wasn't her fault though! They hadn't seen the war like she had. They had yet to experience loss, pain, and fear. And she hoped, dearly hoped that it would stay that way. 

She grabbed her wand, and looked at the baseball bat that remained standing next to the door.

Molly had every right to be suspicious. The kids would definetely not come back this fast. It's too early. WAY too early. As she approached the door cautiously, the person on the other side became more impatient. The ringing of the doorbell became more urgent. More desperate.

'DING ...DINGDING... _DING DING DING DING DING DING-_ '

Now she knew that it was definetely  _not_  her children. 

She crept closer, but stopped as the ringing of the doorbell stopped too. 

Her wand pointed forward, ready for someone to barge in. The being on the other side, banged at the door. Molly expected the door to crash open any minute, but instead, the violent bangs on the door faded slowly, and soon turned into soft, weak tapping. She could hear the scratching and the soft mumbles. Confused she stepped a little closer. 

She could head the nails being dragged weakly down the door, and then a slump. That's when she heard the croaking voice.

'Please...p- please. ..I-I'

The voice of a boy. A young, scared boy, begging for help.  _Desperate._

And with that Molly Weasley opened the door...


	2. Timentes

Draco Malfoy was scared. Hell he was terrified. And fighting for the life of the one closest to him. And his own. To make things worse, he couldn't even use magic. Draco groaned and then played his head on the bundle resting on his lap. He rested it there, and closed his eyes for a few moments.

When the bundle in his arms moved and shuffled, he held it tighter, breathing in the little warmth that it provided. Wait. Not it. Her.

His darling young sister. Lilliath Lucius Malfoy. Oh how Draco hated that name. Lucius. Malfoy. And what he would give to be rid of it.

He dreams of it gone. He imagines what it would be like, in a world where he was not a Malfoy, where he lived with another identity. But reality always seems to shatter his dreams. He WAS a Malfoy. Nothing would ever change that and Lilliath was cursed with the same fate as him. But he wouldn't let that happen. Lilliath would not grow up to get the dark mark like him. She would be kind, loving, and definetely not under the dark lords rule. He would...

The bundle in his arms turned again, and this time stuck her head out. She hugged his body closer, and shivered.

"C-cold...Draco. ..cold...s-so cold"

Draco instantly lifted his head up and opened his eyes. He looked at the shivering form of his sister and regretted not grabbing another cloak before leaving. His wand was useless at the minute. Binded. To prevent him from using magic. But at least Draco had a few potions and dark artifacts on him.

He pulled his own cloak off himself, leaving only his blood soaked shirt to protect himself from the bitter, dry wind. Draco wrapped the little figure with the cloak and kissed her head with cracked lips.

"Better Lilly?," He asked.

She hummed in response, before raising her head from his chest and sitting upright on his lap. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and she pouted.

"Won't Draco get cold? Lilly doesn't want Draco cold. If Draco cold, Lilly no happy!"

Draco chuckled in response, and winced slightly as the wounds shook alongside his laughter.

"Draco doesn't get cold, Lilly. Draco is a big boy now, and big boys," He booped her nose and smirked, "don't-get-cold."

Lilly in response put her tiny hands on her hips, underneath the cloaks, cringed her nose and curled her lips upwards to sneer at him. 'She'd make a good Slytherin,' he thought. Then she stuck her tongue out.

"Lilliath is a big boy too!!"

"No, you're a big girl and big girls are allowed to get cold. I'm a big boy so I have to be strong and tough, to take care of a big girl like you. You don't have to worry about anything. Just live it up to you big brother. oK?"

He puffed his chest in a play full manner.

Lilly giggled, but then frowned.

"B-But papa said Lill-...Lilliath is a boy. Wouldn't that mean Lilliath is a big boy now?"

Draco eyes softened, he grabbed Lilly's shoulders and wiped the tears that silently slipped out of her eyes, before the grin spread itself across his face again.

"Big boys don't cry!"

"But.."

"No buts Lilly. Papa isn't here now. We ran away, remember? I won't let him come back. ok? We will go to a safe place...where you will have friends of your own and people who love you," he looked up to the sky and smiled as the skin-seeping cold brushed through his hair. "You'll have a family, Lilly. A family."

Lilly giggled as if Draco had gone mad. "But, Lilly does have a family!! Draco and Lilly. Draco is all Lilly needs, and Lilly is all Draco needs. No one else. Just Draco and Lilly."

Draco's smiled faltered a little with the words. Oh, if only Lilly knew that he probably wouldn't survive the winter. Merlin, they might not even survive tonight. 

"But wouldn't it be better with a bigger family? One without Papa and Mama?

"T-They won't come back?"

"Yup, they won't! I won't let them! And guess what? You can even grow your hair, and wear dresses, with a sunflower hat! You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Lilliath can grow her hair, and wear dresses!! And Lilliath doesn't have to wear that stuffy, ucky suit again??"

"Yup!"

"Does that mean that Draco doesn't have to wear the suits either?"

"Yup! Draco won't have to wear em either."

"Does that mean Draco will wear dresses too??"

"Don't be a prat, Lilly."

Lilly grinned. "Okie, but...Draco wouldn't look bad in them"

"Of course he wouldn't Lilly. Of course he wouldn't. You brother looks good in everything."

Draco smiled and Lilliath Lucius Malfoy smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So..Lilliath or Lilly is an OC character. She practically looks like a younger version of Draco Malfoy, but without the gel. She's also Draco Malfoy's sister. Yeah.  
> Sorry, it's a short chapter, I hope you enjoyed it!


	3. Luctor et emergo

_Lilliath_ _Lucius Malfoy_ _smiled_ _back..._

Lilly hugged him, and he slightly winced, when her hand clutched at the wound on his back. Lilly seemed to notice and pulled back instantly.

"Draco is hurt."

Draco waved his hand in a careless motion and scoffed.

"Oh, it's nothing! Nothing your big brother can't handle."

Her little hands find her way out of the cloaks and to Draco cheeks. 

"Draco is cold too.."

"I'm a big boy remember?? Big boys don't get cold!!"

Lilly smiled a little and layed back on his chest. 

"When will we get to the safe place?"

Draco grimaced inwardly. He didn't even know if the 'safe place' would even take them in. Wait not them. Not him. But they would definetely take Lilly! She's a small girl. They'd take her for sure!

And with that Draco pulled the cloaks around Lilly tighter and tied the two ends of the cloaks together so they would keep wrapped around her. This was it. He had no other choice, but the Weasley's. Anywhere else would've been better.  _Anywhere._ But Draco knew that he'd be rejected everywhere else. He had spent too much time thinking, and sitting next to this tree. It's either going to the Weasley's or playing a nice visit to his good friend.  _Death._

He stood abruptly, scowling when he accidentally stepped on his bad foot and grabbed the broom that lay beside the tree trunk.

"Draco?"

Draco didn't answer to the innocent voice and mounted on the broom, Lilly still in his arms. He rose slowly, adjusting Lilly's weight so she wouldn't fall.

"We are going to the safe place Lilly. It's going to be ok now. Rest ok? It'll be a while"

"Hmmm"

And then Draco shot forward, covering his sisters body with his own to protect her from the wind. He shivered, starting to feel his hands go numb already.

\----------------------------------

How long had it been? An hour? Two? or three?

Draco didn't know. He's lost track of time, and he could feel his consciousness slowly fading away. He could no longer tell if he was cold or warm. A tingling sensation had taken over his body, and with every passing minute his eyelids grew heavier.  _'A little longer, Draco. A little...'_  

Draco forced himself to look down at Lilly. She...she wasn't awake. She probably fell asleep...yeah, that was about right...WAIT! what if she wasn't sleeping?What f the cold had taken over her? What if she...she was-

Panic rose within him and he moved slightly on the broom to look at her. He shook her a little. Tried to call out her name, and yet she wouldn't wake. Draco eyes widened and his breath quickened. _No no...no no no...Lilly._

He caressed her head, feeling, trying to feel, but couldn't.  His hands were too cold to feel anything. If Lilly was sick, or injured, or...worse. He didn't know.

"Merlin please...please...Lilly for the love of god, be ok. Be ok. _Please_ "

He flew even faster ignoring his own pain, and muttered the same words over and over again.

"Almost..Lilly hold on...please.. please.."

Draco was begging. In this dark world of his, it was all he had. No power. No magic. All he could do was beg, to....to himself. How low had he fallen into this self-pity?

A glimmer of hope shined as a clearing opened up within the forest, and a warm looking house stood there. Waiting. Calling out for Draco. This was it. This was the safe heaven he told Lilly about.

"Hey..look Lilly. ..we're here...we made it girl.. _we_..Made it."

He got closer and closer...lowering his broom more to the ground. His fingers turned unto water, and his grip on the broom broke...  
   
Draco fell. No. Draco was falling. Meaning Lilliath was falling. His arms tightened around the small body,  and turns his back around so it was facing the ground, breaking Lilly's fall. Almost.

His ears ringed as his head came into contact with the ground. Vision now white, and body numb, he choked out a sob. It wasn't a large fall, but with his current condition it hurt like hell.

Tears pricked his eyes and he yelped. Lilly skidded out of his arms and lay limp in the snow. 

"No no no...l-lily"

Draco scrambled to the limp body, and brushed the snow off her face, and layed her head in his lap. He patted her cheek, calling out her name.

"P-please be ok.."

He hugged her and lifted her off the ground. Draco felt a little releaved. His legs weren't injured. Even if they were, it wasn't as if he could feel them. They were numb. From either the pain or the cold. He didn't know nor cared, he could at least get Lilly to the 'safe place'.

And using whatever strength he had left, his legs hauled them towards to house. The house was big. It looked like an ordinary muggle house but only 3 times the size and more witch like...with chimneys and stones, and shrubbery. 

Draco rested the front of his body with Lilly on door, and silently congratulated himself. He'd made it. To the safe place. To lily's safe place. To..the...the...  _Weasels_  house.

As much as Draco despised the idea of coming here, he honestly had no choice. The Weasley's hate him. They would kick him out in no time. But in his hands was just a little girl. A girl who'd been caught up in this war without ever intending to. A girl who'd been been cursed the life of a Malfoy. They'd accept her. 

Draco rang the bell again. It'd been a while since he'd rung the last one.. Cmon. ..please...be home be home...open!

_'I_ _t's going to be all your fault if you find two dead body's at your front porch Weasley!,'_  He thought.

No reply.

Gulping slightly he rang the bell again, this time more urgently. 

No reply still. 

Fear came sprawling out from the back of his mind. Taking over, and consuming. He trembled, and a few tears that he'd been holding back pour down  his cheeks. So once the first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken steam. He was scared. What if they weren't here? Would he and Lilly be left here to huddle infront on their porch until death comes visit them? Would this be all he'd be able to do for Lilly? His final birthday gift to her..would be death?

Draco was getting desperate. He pressed the muggle Bell again and again, and rested his head to the door. His legs bucked and he stumbled to the ground, hitting the door in a frantic manner. In any other situation it would've been funny. Seeing the great Slytherin prince hit himself on the head with Weasley's door. 

"Ple-plea..se," He croaked. His fingernail dragged lightly on the wood. He was begging. On his knees and desperate. He'd never felt so exposed in his entire life. It was as if he was giving out his entire being. Displayed out, so that the world could see how vulnerable he looked. How... _weak._ He chuckled realizing how ironic it was, but it came out as a cracked groan. A _Malfoy_ , on his knees and begging. Ha!

Suddenly, the door swings open, and Draco falls forward, his arm extends to prevent Lilly from hitting the ground.

Wincing Draco looks up and his eyes glimmer with hope. Molly Weasley. One of the nicest and feistiest woman he'd ever known. His eyes softened and the corner of his lips curved up a little until...

" _Death eater_ scum! How dare y-!...  
 

 


	4. Vociferous

_"_ _Death_ _Eater scum!! How dare-"_...

    The sound of weeping cut her off. She looks down and Malfoy now has his head cradled in the bundle that he held. His body shook with violent tremors and sobs. Choking. Not crying, but trying to. As if all that he could produce were dry tears. The boy held the bundle tighter and kissed it? 

   She couldn't tell. She wasn't sure wheather Malfoy was simply burying his face on the bundle or kissing it softly. 

  That's when she finally took in the sight laid out before her and gasped. She regretted saying those words to the boy, that didn't mean she liked the boy any better. She simply had pity. The boy infront of her was wearing a shirt. ONLY a shirt. Blood stained it, and she could make out his thin, trembling body underneath the thin cloth. She wondered when he had last eaten. His ears and face nearly blue, hair disheveled. Hands shaking and his clothes drenched in mud. His eyes drooped and looked as if on the verge of fainting. 

   "Please..P-please," the boy moaned. 

   Molly quickly nods, and put a her arms around the boy's frail body, ready to pick him up, but he shakes his head and then moves out of her hold. He lifts his arms and raises the bundle, as if to tell her to take it. 

  That is when Mrs Weasley finally understands. In the bundle in his hands, was a small child. A boy. A small boy. Why would Malfoy, of all people save a boy?

   She stands there petrified for a few minutes and Malfoy starts to panic.

  "P-please! I-I won't e-even come in..just...he-help her! I-I-"

   Her?

  "S-she wouldn't w-ake up...help H-her. ..please...she's just a...a child. S-she innocent... _please_ "

  Molly snapped out of her daze and nodded frantically. She grabbed the child from his arms and quickly ran inside and wrapped the small body in the blanket that was discarded on the couch. before rushing back to the door. The sights before her shocks her.

 Malfoy, he was trying to walk away...he was trying to leave, and occasionally losing his balance, but somehow managing to stay on his feet.

  Her eye twitched. What was it with teenagers and trying to do things they can't do when they are injured. First Ron, then Fred, and NOT to mention Harry! _Especially_ Harry!

  "MALFOY! YOU DUMB ARSE!! COME BACK HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT! !!"

  She noticed Malfoy wince, and stop for barely a second, and continued tretching in the snow, pretending he didn't hear her.

  Molly sighed, and she crossed her arms. She leaned against the door frame and waited.

  Malfoy on the other hand was trying his to stay up. 

  Sooner or later Malfoy fell on his face like a flopping penguin, but this time his body didn't rise back up the snow. 

  "Geez..children these day." Molly muttered, before stepping out into the cold. Ms Weasley even cursed the moment her bare feet hit the snow. She walked about 10 steps and picked Malfoy up, dragging his limp, cold body into the warmth.  

  Mrs Weasley made a mental promise that she'd make this boy eat a turkey whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry..I know it's very short. I'll make the next one longer!


	5. Chapter 5

_Mrs_ _Weasley made a mental_ promise _that she'd make this boy eat a turkey whole..._

Draco Malfoy woke up with a gasp. The gasp soon turned into coughing, and then choking. 

A cup of water was immediately pressed to his lips, and he drank it eagerly. The water ran down his throat and he swore he could've purred in the bliss of it. How long had it been since he'd drank water? 

When the cup was emptied, he looked and the face of Molly Weasley came before him. Draco gagged and moved away, in horror. Why was he with a Weasley? A..a  _Weasley!?_ A _disgusting_ blood traitor...Wait...he was forgetting something. Where...where was Lilly? 

"Where is she!!????," He shrieked in realization and Mrs Weasley chuckled.

"I swear if you did _anything_ to her, You-know-who will be the last of your worries!" He tried to sound intimidating. Sound scary. Sound like a Malfoy, but how pathetic was this. He couldn't even speak Voldemort's name.

"Oh dear, do you remember that you showed up bleeding on my doorstep."

   .....

   ........

Oh.

   ...

That was right.

This was...the _'safe place_ ' he'd told Lilly about. He'd been so desperate that he had gotten on his knees and begged. Draco grimaced at the thought. He'd stooped so..so  _low._ To make matters worse it was a Weasley.  
' _It doesn't matter. Draco, it doesn't matter. For Lilly. Don't be so selfish,'_ He told himself.

"Right...ofcourse I did, Weas-," he cut himself off. He was about to call her a Weasel, but it would ofcourse be wiser if he didn't. Draco needed to keep to his best behaviour, he needed them to keep Lilly. 

"Is - is she ok? She's ok r- right?"

Mrs Weasley stared at him.  
"She's alright, she just has a small fever. _You_ on the other hand," She pauses. "You on the other hand...yo-"

"I'll leave! I-I swear!, he abruptly cut in

"No ..no..that's not what I-," Mrs Weasley tried, Draco kept at it. 

"..just need to know if she's ok! I know you don't like me but-"

"No-"

"Let me see her once! I know you have no reason to help, but she's just a child! I-"

"Will u give it a rest Malfoy!!," She spoke, this time with a louder and more demanding voice.

Draco shushed up immediately. He looked frightened. Fuck. He was frightened.  _'What is they don't keep her here? Where would I take her then??'_

Mrs Weasley sighed, and put a hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner. 

"She's alright. You can go see her too."

Draco's face brightened instantly and he tried to stand, and moaned a little when he accidently stepped on his bad ankle, but didn't say anything. Maybe Mrs Weasley didn't hate him as much as he suspected after all? Maybe!-

"But..," She continued and Draco slumped back into the couch. 

"Of course," He mumbled. "Of course you would have some sort of condition."

"You seem to misunderstand me Malfoy. I just want to talk, so we can clarify a few things."

Draco looked suprised. He had expected a dead for an apology, something in return. Something to make him replay for his  _'bad'_  behaviour towards them. He'd expected a whole presentation on his deeds, on his family name and the evil lurking in his blood. To him, she probably wanted some sort of reassurance that he wouldn't kill them in their sleep, or slip poisoned potions into their food. Oh, how wrong he'd been

"Y- you want to talk?"

"Yes. About the girl _AND_ you"  
Draco shifted awkwardly a little. He scratched his head in nervousness, and pulled his legs up onto the couch.

"Uhh..well...what do you..want to know?"

Mrs Weasley almost chuckled. Malfoy acted more like a child now and less like a stuck - up, spoiled prat.

"Why don't we start easy? Who is that girl?"

"You know she's a girl??"

"Yeah, I figured that out when I changed her clothes. So...who is she?"

Draco looked down at his hands.

"Her name is Lilliath. Lilliath Lucius Malfoy. S-she's my sister."

"Why is she..you know dressed as a boy?"

"Well...you know how...uhhh," Draco stammered. "Y - you know how Lucius....H-he wanted a heir."

Mrs Weasley looked confused. "Aren't you the heir??"

"I - it wouldn't matter. He...he wanted a boy." Draco lied. Well not completely. Lucius  _DID_  want a boy. Draco didn't have to tell her everything. Right?

Mrs Weasley looked down and sighed a little, before taking in a breath. 

"Why would you come here??"     

Draco raised an eyebrow. "For help of course."

She shook her head.

"I mean what _MADE_ you come here. Why would you need the help?"

Draco wasn't sure what or why, but something snapped inside of him. Was this some sort of interrogation? Did she think that Draco had made this up. That this was all another part of another plan. Even if it wasn't, did she think that he would tell her everything?

"I need _help._ Not some sort of interrogation. It shouldn't really _matter_  why I am here!," He gritted. This woman had no right to interfere in his life.

"I think I have the _right_ to know! Seeing that _YOU_ , a  _MALFOY_ , is going to be residing in _my_ house!"

Draco winced a little with the tone of her harshness. It was true. They really did have no reason to help him or rather keep them here. Not with the way he'd treated them. He felt his anger, that had been peaking it's way up, now drooping.

"I..okay. Let's just make this clear. I don't plan on staying here. I'll plan on leaving as soon as I meet Lilly and see that she is ok. And as for Lilly. You don't have to worry about her. I can assure you that she is no death eater, and probably won't poison you drinks. Though I can't promise that."

Mrs Weasley opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when Draco raised a hand.

"Let me finish...I didn't come here looking for a place to stay or for my own protection. I wanted to request protection and a shelter for my sister. She's innocent. Just a child. I can't let her get caught up in this war."

Draco was suprised at how fluently he said that. He'd expected to stutter a little or pause. 

"I see. I suppose you care a lot for this ' _supposed'_  sister of yours."

Draco froze.

"Of course I- what do you mean by _supposed_?"

Draco held back a sneer. How dare she think that Draco was lying.

"Well, from what I see. It seems like you are ready to abandon your sister wherever, as long as you get rid of her."

Draco stood up. His eyes turned dark and the hair fell on his face like wisps.

"What do you mean by that!!?" he snarled. 

Mrs Weasley looked straight into Draco's eyes and glared.

"Oh so you're saying you _AREN'T_ leaving your sister here and going off to who knows where. Probably to serve Voldemort."

She said the name with disgust and without fear. It seemed to shock Draco. To see how brave she was. If only he could be so, but as much as he admired her bravery, he was beyond pissed. This old, orange headed hag seemed to think that he was abandoning his sister for good! This is why he didn't like Weasleys'. Always thinking that they are the only family that ever has any human emotions.

"Oh fuck you! You don't know anything! And don't you dare assume! You ..you THINK that I am abandoning my SISTER?!! Exactly how insane and empty headed could you _Weasels_  can be!?! She's my god damn sister. I'd never leave her. But what would you know about that?! All slytherins and the children of Malfoy just seem like the Devils spawn to you! Like all we ever talk about is about death and how fun death is, and how we don't give a shit about our family. You probably think we eat boiled babies for breakfast. Along with the delightful cup of human blood. Oh how  _lovely_."

Draco paused and took in a deep breath. He'd forgotten to breathe in that little rant of his. He panted and looked at Mrs Weasley with a flushed face.

Her lips quirked up a little. Was...was she smiling?? Draco furrowed his eyebrows. What was wrong with this weasel?? She was...

She was  _smiling!!_


	6. Return of the Potter

“You’re smiling? No...you’re  _ laughing _ ?”

"Oh C'mon, let an old lady have a good laugh once in awhile, will ya?”

Draco gaped. One minute the two were fighting, and clawing at each others necks. Mrs. Weasley let out another chuckle, before hiccuping to get her breath back. Her hair bobbed up and down, as she shook, and her lips stretched out to her eyes. For a moment it made Draco happy. Which itself was strange. Draco Malfoy, “heir” of the rivaling family to the woman in front of him, was happy that he could’ve made someone other than Lily laugh. A little butterfly feeling grew in the pit of his stomach, and the edges of his lips curved up the slightest.  _ Get a hold of yourself, Draco!  _ He shook his head, and pushed the butterflies back. “ _ Why? _ ” he asked, not wanting to pry or lengthen the conversation, but just out of general curiosity.

Mrs Weasley gave a cheeky smile, her pudgy cheeks rising. “No real reason. Now, why don’t you go pay a visit to that little sister of yours, while I go cook up a nice supper for you lot.”

Draco looked up and nodded frantically. Food did sound good. Maybe she’d allow him to eat before he left. It’d give him some energy to continue his run, but he wouldn’t beg. He didn’t want to let go of the little pride that he had left. She could at least spare him this. He’d wait to see if she’d ask him to eat first, which seemed pretty unlikely. He was bloody Draco Malfoy for god's sake. The same boy that had made her son’s life miserable for the past 5 years.

He pushed himself up from the sofa, wincing when a jolt of pain ran down his bad leg, and the way up to his spine, to the veins of his right eye. He doubted Mrs Weasley had used any pain killing spell, or rather, any magic on him at all. She didn’t have the knowledge to do so. Probably didn’t want to risk him getting splinted.

He took his first step, and gasped. The ankle was swollen, probably sprained, hopefully not broken. Biting his lip, he continued his way down the hallway, trying to get to the room to which Mrs Weasley had pointed him to. At this point he was wishing he’d been back out in the snow again. At Least the cold had numbed his nerves, and the pain had not been so audible back there. His bones felt as they were on fire, burning from the inside out. Agony pulsed, beating in sync with his impossibly loud heartbeat. 

He did eventually make it to the room. Robin egg walls closing in the room.  A massive mahogany bed stood against a wall, hung with pale blue curtains of silk, and cloth, that fell about 8 feet from the ceiling. Matching furniture surrounded the walls, but what caught Draco’s eye the most was the picture frame that lay on the white table stand next to the bed. It was a picture of the family. The brothers, sister all with arms wrapped around each other. Granger stood in front of Weasley, his arms slung over her shoulders. Potter stood not so far, giving an awkward smile, while the two twin prodded at his cheeks. It looked... _ nice. _ Made him wonder that maybe this was not the guest room, and somebody else's. Maybe Ginny’s. It looked too...well kept for any of the boys. Maybe Bill’s, but he wasn’t sure.

His attention wandered back to the little figure that lay cocooned in the blankets, as he hobbled to the edge of it. He sat down softly, careful not to make any unnecessary movements, or any loud noises. Lilly was a light sleeper. Perhaps on the lightest that Draco had ever seen. 

“Hey,” he whispered, slowly running his hand through her hair, and down her cheek, to check that she was in fact there. “Draco’s gonna have to leave soon. But the people here. They are really nice, and they’ll treat you better than I could ever have. There are two young ladies that live here, and you’ll have a lot more brother’s too. And they’ll let you wear all the dresses you want. They’ll let you braid their hair, and even cook with them. You know-”

Draco choked a sob. Warm tears were now trailing down his cheeks, and he had yet to comprehend to them. “Y-you know...the one that saved us, she’s cooking up a big meal just for you. And-and they were friends with Dobby. You loved Dobby, remember? Though, I mean I wasn’t very fond of him. He was always up my nose you know.”

He spoke softly, chuckling a little, trying to get his voice to lighten up, the trails didn’t seem to stop. When that first tear had broken through, the rest seemed to follow in an unbroken stream, and Draco wanted nothing more than to cry, sob his heart out, and scream. So everyone else so hear him. Know that he was suffering, and that he too was becoming a victim of the war. He too, was about to lose someone dear to him.

“There’s one here that has some sorta hero syndrome,” he continued. “Names Potter. We don’t get along much. He said to be the one to defeat the big bad wolf. I’d say not. Not when he’d running out in the open, pretty much  _ trying _ to get himself killed. Perhaps, you’ll knock some sense into that his little buffoon head of his. I never seemed to be able to-”

He cut himself there, and leaned down to kiss the little girl’s forehead. He was saying goodbye, and it didn’t seem to be long enough. “Brother loves you, ok? You always remember that.”

And with that he stood up, and walked away, but not before taking off his charmed necklace and placing it on her neck, close to the heart. He felt it’s make the goodbye a little more meaningful, like the ones that happen in the books. He’d be leaving his memory behind.

He closed the door behind him quietly, and leaned his back against it, staring up at the ceiling. He raised his arm to wipe the tears, when he realized he was not wearing his clothing. Someone else's. Maybe Weasley’s.

He turned back down the hall, but didn’t go towards the kitchen, when Mrs Weasley was. Instead, he walked back to the couch, grabbing his cloak, the belt of potions, and the useless wand, if it could even be called a wand anymore. Draco shrugged his cloak over his shoulders. It was still wet, something that was unexpected, but not so bad. It was soothing to the bruises that covered his torso, and arms. He pulled his hood up, and gave one last look back towards the direction where his sister lay sound asleep, and safe. Broom in one hand, and belt in the other, he swung the door open, letting the air gush in, soft flecks of snow falling onto his eyelashes, and the cold enveloping around his pale figure. And fuck his timing. Really the fates really do hate him. Even after what he’d been through. _ Fuck _ .

Sighing, he looked up, gray meeting green, as he came face to face with a very much angry and furious looking.... _ Potter _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is short, and also a very late update, but I hope it works for now. I'll be sure to update soon. I'll also start to update this story more regularly from now on. Anyways, hope you guys enjoy it. Be sure to review!


	7. So much for Food

“Malfoy!  _ Malfoy! _ ” Potter yelled, venom dripping for his very tongue. It almost made Draco cringe and curl away, but he supposed he already knew what was going to happen. This was Potter.  _ He knew _ Potter. “Y- _ You _ \- Malfoy!!” 

“Yes, that is me,” Draco replied sarcastically.

“What are you doing here?” Potter growled, stepping forward, coming right up to Draco’s face. _ Had Potter grown taller? _ His shoulders were broader, and no longer was the chosen one, a lanky old school boy. A small stubble of hair prodded at his chin, and Draco swore those eyes were even greener than before. Seems like puberty his Potter well.

“He asked you a question!” A threatening voice came out, which Draco presumed was Weasley. Bloody hell. The  _ whole _ gang had to show up.

“I was just leaving.” He tried to circle around the group and out the door, when a hand gripped his arm tightly, and pushed him up against the wall.

“Like hell you are!” The hand twisted, and Draco felt like vomiting. The bile forming up at the tip of his tongue, ready to spill if any more pain seized his body. “What are you even doing here? Snooping around? Didn’t do enough at school, so you decided to come here and spread you stupid little taunts, huh? Or did you  _ master _ send you?”

Draco cringed at that. To call you-know-who his master. Yes, he held the mark. It’s been a curse from the moment it had leeched onto his skin, but did they really have to remind him of it? Of what a failure he was. But what did they know? They’d only met evil. He’d  _ lived _ with it.

“Let me go, Weasley,” he gritted out, coming out as more of a whimper. 

“Tell us first, Malfoy. What are you doing here?”

“I said I was just leaving! Tell me Weasley, did the mental hospital too many drug on you today? Is that why you you can’t fucking hear me the first time!?”

The pain that exploded in Draco’s head after those saying phrases did not register. A part him had already been expecting the punch, but not this hard. He felt his lip split open, stomach almost ripping apart as the warm putrid feeling rose, and he the last of his contents onto the hardwood floor below.  _ ‘A shame,’ _ he thought, dazed. _ ‘Mrs Weasley must’ve worked hard to clean the floor.’ _

He could feel the slick spilling from his mouth, the bitter acidy taste, and then the tingling burning sensation in his throat. He mouth was craving. Begging for water, to rid himself of the scratching in his throat. His mouth moved to say ‘please,’ but no words would come out, and neither did Draco have the strength to try again. Instead he lay there crouched over the arm that had abused him, and spilled his fill once more, before the arm flung him aside, disgusted. 

He landed onto the ground with a thud, his ankle snapping in an awkward angle. It hurt. Everything hurt so much. His sense numbed at the commotion around him, as a buzzing sensation overcame his body. He could feel the warm blood of his now opened wound slipping out from it’s place, and down his skin. Looking up, Draco noticed a hazy figure of the woman that saved him come. She was holding them back, maybe. Draco didn’t know. Couldn’t tell. He was too busy trying to stand up, and maintain his footing. He did gain that. The immediate pain had left, now more a dull throb. He looked up at the 4 yet again. It seemed that Mrs. Weasley was trying to tell them about his situation. He didn’t want her to. 

It seemed that Granger was being more understanding, than the other two, for she was coming to his side trying to help him, but he pushed her away.

“He’s a Malfoy! A death-eater! Molly you can’t possibly agree to this-” “He belongs in Azkaban!” “His father tried to kill Ginny! Does that mean noth-”

“I said I was  _ fucking _ leaving!!!” he yelled over the voices, as loud as he could. His voice hoarse and rough. It seemed to be enough, for the air had gone silent.

“I’m leaving,” he repeated softer this time. “I didn’t plan on staying here from the start. I’ll leave. I don’t need your fucking pity, or your help. Besides Mrs. Weasley, I’m glad for you concern, but I’m leaving. I just wanted to get rid of this burden.”

It was a lie. He knew. Lilly was no burden. So he wiped his mouth with the edge of his sleeve and proceeded to walk out. Even Mrs Weasley didn’t stop him. Potter looked livid, while Ron simple closed her eyes and looked away in disgust. Granger seemed to remain vary. She stood by the door, and as Draco turned to leave, she slammed it shut.

“What are you doing, Granger?”

“You’re not telling us the truth here, are you, Malfoy?”

“What are you on about?”

“You would drop a child off just because they were a burden? Tell me, Malfoy, why the hell would someone like  _ you _ , risk your life and safety to bring a little child here, if you didn’t care about them? Why not just leave em’ in some forest, or orphanage? Why  _ here _ ?”

“I’m not  _ that _ evil, Granger. I won’t stoop as low as to leave a child out there in that weather.”

“But to risk _ your life _ ?”

Malfoy glared at that. He had to make his act more convincing. More disgusting. “Who said anything about risking their life, Granger?”

Granger looked down, and Malfoy could vaguely understand what she was saying. He followed her eyes down to his own pitiful-self. And what a pitiful sight it’d been. Blood had started to drip down from the coat, to the floor, becoming mangled up with the bile. Shit. He’d hoped that the coat would’ve covered the blood, but it seemed that it had leached through it. Now that he thought about it, he looked towards the arm that had hit him. Weasley’s hand was stained. If it wasn’t for the seriousness of the situation, he’d have thought that it looked rather pretty. The red smeared over the elegant skin so wildly. Darnit. Maybe he was thinking like a death eater now. To think that Blood could ever become such a pretty sight, or maybe it was the fact that it his, and nobody else’s.

“Does it even matter, Mione’..it’s probably not even that big of a wound. He’s exaggerating it.”

Draco stared with disbelief at Potter. The man who’d just spoken. How sare he say that Draco was exaggerating it? How dare? Where was had the Potter he’d known before gone to? The one who’d risk his own life to save even Snape? 

“Have you seen him? Harry!! Don’t be such a blind rat!”

Draco blinked a couple times before turning his gaze back to Granger. She was defending him? Heh. It was laughable. The girl he’d called mudblood for years, here before him, defending him. What a miserable sight he must have looked like for Granger to help him. Even Potter winced when he raked his eyes up and down his cold body. 

Ah..it’s cold. He hadn’t noticed.

“I’m leaving, Mudblood and d-don’t even think about stopping me a-again.” He was stuttering. Not good. Draco hadn’t wanted to call Granger a mudblood, he just wanted to hurt her a little. So she wouldn’t stop him, and let him leave, and go lie somewhere in a desolate place to sleep. Just sleep. 

He was tired.

Nonetheless, he forced his feet to move, and towards the door again to be stopped. This time more gently. “Stop..stop,” Draco found himself muttering, too weak to push the body away. Strong hands wrapped themselves around his frail body and dragged him away from his escape. “Let go..Stop! Stop!! STOP! LET GO! NO NO NO!! LET GO! LET GO! LET ME GOO,” he screamed. “AGHH, NO I WANT TO LEAVE!! I WANT...to leave. I want to...I-I want..”

His voice faded away, along with most of his vision. The once disguinshible figures now hazy. “It’s ok. It’s ok,” a gentle voice spoke. “You’re ok.”

He  _ wasn’t _ .

“It’ll be alright.”

It wouldn’t. And he knew that better than anyone here. 

“Calm down.”

He could hardly move.

“The pain will go away soon. It’s ok.”

The pain had already gone away, leaving behind a small buzzing feeling, slowly deteriorating his senses.

“Breathe, Draco. Breathe.”

He didn’t want to, when all he did was waste the oxygen around him. 

He could barely feel the hand running through his hair, but it was somewhat relaxing. Coaxing his thoughts and feelings. Bringing his all to loud beating to a quiet numbing thump.  _ Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. _

It wasn’t his own heartbeat, Draco realized, but it was soothing. He found himself leaning closer to that heartbeat, reminding his that this was was still alive. He was still alive, but they weren’t safe. The darkness lurked, not outside, but inside him. Marked onto his arm like a scar. ‘ _ Go away,’ _ he wanted to say. To tell the warmth that it wasn’t safe, not with him. It needed to go, before the ink spread, and stained that ever so gentle heartbeat. But he could hardly care. His eyelids were becoming heavy, and breathing was growing steady, if not slower.

“ _ Sleep, _ ” the warmth, and Draco let himself fall into the trap.

Sleep did seem nice, afterall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter!! It's kinda sad and depressing, I know, but do not worry....never mind. The next chapter will probably be just as sad and depressing. Anyways, hope you guys like it!! Be sure to review!! Until next time~


	8. "Sod off, Weasley!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco tries to escape, but in no avail.

Draco pushed himself deeper into the covers, hoping that somehow the light would fade away, and come back with the dark. Or maybe the clouds could cover the sun, and it would storm. That way, he could stay, huddled away in his...no  _ not his _ covers, but covers nonetheless. What’s worse was that they were  _ awfully _ comforting. Kept him at peace, and his thoughts at bay.

There really was no more point to this anymore. He was tired. Tired of breathing. Of trying. Or living. For fucks sake, even waking up was a struggle. 

So he let his body lay limp on the warm bed as he stared out into the bright sky out the window. Blue. So blue, with the slight brushes of white painted smoothly across its surface. The sky was nice. And he was tired.

Draco wants to go back to wherever his beloved sister is. Wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around her small body, and hold her until the world itself stops spinning. Maybe even after that, but Draco knows if he sees her now, it would become almost impossible to leave. 

Sighing, he turned to his side, slowly pushing up from the bed, and wincing as the pain shot up his stomach to the back of his head. His body crippling with every breath. Couldn’t they have used magic to heal him? Surely someone out of the twenty people that live in this house learned some healing spells. Looking down at his stomach, he concluded he wasn’t wrong. His wound had been bandages heavily in white bandages, making him look paler than he already was. They’d used the muggle way.  _ Great.  _

He had to go. Had to leave and get the fuck out of here before they Potter and the rest of his gang arrived. T _ hey _ couldn’t find him.  _ They _ couldn't. He wouldn’t let them. So biting the pain away into the soft of his mouth, he stood up with an agonizing silent groan, pressing up at his stomach as though it were some hundred pound stone weighing down upon him. Dragging him into the ground ready to swallow him up in a pit of snakes. Damning him to hell for an eternity. 

To him, this was the end, and in a way it was. He was leaving everything behind. Every little self loathing piece of him to rot away in this emptiness.

Draco took one more careful look at the closed door behind him, before reaching for the window. He took another burning step forward, and his knees buckled. And of course just like every other time, Draco failed, crashing down on the ground, but putting his hand down first to block a blow to the stomach.

_ Terrible idea. _

Pain went shooting up his wrist as a sickening crack filled the air. “Shit shit shit shit....c’mon Draco..c’mon...fucking shit,” he muttered cradling his wrist and rolling on the ground a little. The impact, harder than it really should be. 

It’s when he heard the thumping from the stairs below him did he move. He quickly scrambled up, careful not to fall again, and jumped back into the bed, covering his crippling self with the white sheets.

_ SLAM! _

The door slammed open and Draco shut his eyes tightly, biting his tongue to hide the whimper that almost escaped from his mouth.

“I know you’re awake, Malfoy,” a voice came gentle, but harsh nonetheless. No, not Potter.  _ Weasley. _ “I can see you shaking...there is no point in trying to hide it. Don’t think I didn’t hear that thump from earlier either. What the hell were you even thinking”

Snarling weakly, he opened his eyes. “What’s it matter, Weasley?”

The red head stood there with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall. Weasley raised an eyebrow, tilting his head sheepishly in a careless manner. “Oh,  _ I don’t know. _ Maybe I just don’t want a  _ death eater’s _ dead body lying around in  _ my _ room with  _ my _ clothes on.” 

Looking down, what Weasley said was indeed true. His clothes were not his clothes anymore, but rags. Funny. They seemed softer and a lot more comfortable than his own actual clothes. He wondered if they gave Lily such soft clothes too. 

Draco would has muttered a small thanks, maybe bowed his head with gratitude, but this was Weasley they were talking about. “Huh..I was wondering why they smelled so bad.”

That got a reaction out of Weasley, and Draco smirked slightly, trying to cover up the tears that were now starting to well up in the brink of his eyelids.

“Malfoy! You bloody cockroach...I’ll bloody..I’ll-”

“You’ll what, Weasley?” Draco strained. “Go cry to dear ol’ mommy for me? Or will you go get that manly girlfriend of yours. I’m sure she’d... _.protect _ you from oh evil ol’ me!”

Weasley gritted his teeth. “You listen here, Malfoy! I’d ought to bloody kick you out of this house, but even I’m not that cruel. So how about you don’t start anything that could get you hurt more than you already are,”

“You sound like you’re doing me some sort favour by keeping me here!” Draco accused, anger started to boil at its peak, tears threatening to spill out.

“Oh Malfoy, trust me,  _ I am _ .”

How dare Weasley say he was doing him a favour? He was going to leave! It was them that kept him here!

“If I recall correctly, it was you people that kept me from leaving, because quite frankly, I simply have no problem getting out of this shitty hole you call a  _ ‘home’. _ ”

“Why are you so bloody stubborn, Malfoy!” Weasley gritted out, clenching his fists in an attempt to control his anger. “You were almost half dead!  _ You almost died. _ ”

“Wonder who’s fault that was,” he muttered referring to the punch and blow Weasley had hurled towards him, not so long ago, and turning his gaze to the wall.

“ _ I can’t believe you _ ,” Weasley hushed in disbelief.

“Then don’t!” he retorted. “Don’t fucking believe me!”

“Alright! I won’t....oh please do go on then,” the red head continued stepping away from the door. “By all means, please do leave. You don’t mean much to us anyway. Not like anyone would be saddened by your leave. Oh! Maybe mommy and daddy will cry a little, but what more? So please...do continue.”

Ouch. That once pinched a little. He was hurt, and somewhere in the back of his mind he’d hoped that they’d make him stay...at least until he was better, but this is where his arrogance lands him. And he supposed it was a good thing. They’d all at least be safe. Not to mention, his pride wouldn’t allow him to accept such defeat.

“You know what, Weasley? I will very much do so!”

And so taking in a deep breath, Draco quickly pushed the covers away and stood up walking towards the door with his chin held up high. He barely made it 6 steps before the water started to leak from his eyes. So when that first tear broke loose, the rest followed in an unbroken stream, spilling onto the ground. He sniffled a little, trying to wipe the tears away, but in no avail. The pain seemed endless. It was leaching through his every never and straight down the the pit of his bones. 

He sobbed, and it seemed that caught the Weasley’s attention. “Hey Hey...are you crying?”

Draco only sobbed harder in response. It seemed useless to stop now. Stupid stupid Weasley.

“Oh my God...ok ok..Malfoy stop crying...hey Malfoy I’m sorry ok. I’m sorry,” he tried, staring at Draco like a lost puppy not sure what to do.

It was when Draco bent over slightly and pressed his hands softly against his stomach did Weasley take action.

“Shit shit shit...ok okay...let’s get you back to bed. I suppose you can stay  _ for now _ ..just....jesus christ Malfoy.. _ stop crying _ .”

Draco’s lip trembled, and his looked up at the red head attempting to glare. “I-I can’t, Weasley..”

“Alright alright..just don’t look at me like that. Jesus I- forget it.” He came by Draco’s slight, swinging one of his arms around his shoulder, while taking the other and carefully wrapping it around the other’s waist careful not to disturb the injury. Once he managed to get Draco back to bed, he grabbed the glass and jug from the table side, and filled it up, handing it over to Draco, who took it warely. 

“For christ's sake, it’s not poisoned, Malfoy.”

“Sod off, Weasley,” Draco grumbled through the tears, through in his mind he wondered what this ‘Christ’ was.

“Alright!” Weasley threw his hands up in defeat and turned to leave, but stopped as a pained voice stopped him. “Anything you need, princess?”

Draco looked down at the sheets, biting his lip. “I-It hurts...”

Weasley looked unamused. “And?”

Draco threw one last weak glare at the redhead’s way before groaning in defeat. “... _help_.”

The other gave a nod walking swiftly out the door and Draco could almost missed the smug smirk that painted his lips. He decided he did not like Weasley. Not that he didn’t before, but he doesn’t like him now either...no. Not at all. He did  _ not _ like Weasley!

Draco could only begin to imagine, how much worse Potter would be...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for updating so late! School started and my grades were beginning to drop, so I was focusing more on my studies. This new chapter is a bit small, but I hope you all enjoy it. I'll be sure to make up for not updating in the next chapter. Until next time~ Be sure to review!
> 
> If you see a mistake, tell me! Criticism is appreciated!


	9. Why?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco have a small chat.  
> Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, and small descriptions of gore.

Draco did not look forward to seeing Potter again, but it seemed it was all he could do to get rid of this agony, that seemed to be running through his very veins. Sometimes, he wondered if he’d been born with it. As though it's always been there, only he was noticing it now. And oh how it _hurt_.

So when, ‘holier than thou’ swooped in through the door, looking at him with that same wild anger he’d grown to love. Draco wished he would’ve left when he had the chance. He should be dead by now, and Merlin knows it would be for the best. This secret he was holding, would die along with him. He’d take it to his very grave, and he didn’t have long left...he _needed_ to hurry.

“Potter,” Draco croaked, wondering if the raven could possibly understand. Or maybe he already knew. Knew Draco’s dark, ugly secret, but then again...no. There was no real way they would know. Hell even _he_ didn’t know...at least not anymore. Funny how well an ‘Oblivious’ charm could work when casting towards the mirror. It was a handy spell. One that could erase an entire life with the power of one small hushed word. Permanent when for someone else, but only temporarily when cast towards yourself. Draco had learned that the hard way. After all, he had been the only wizard in history to try..or better yet be _able_ to cast it upon himself in the first place.

“Malfoy,” the voice came back. Draco gave a small chuckle, but it came out as more of a choked sob. How foolish of him.

Strong, calloused hands pushed him down onto the bed and pushed his shirt up. Potter gave a slight wince and wrinkled his nose in disgust. _Was it really that bad?_

“Who... _What_ did this?”

Draco tried to smile. Was that worry he heard in Potter’s voice? No...it could just be pity he reminded himself. Not that Draco minded. _Worry. Pity._ They seemed to be having the same effect these days. Gave his heart the same amount of happiness and joy.

“ _Malfoy..._ ” Potter repeated, once again asking his unspoken questions.

Draco gave a small shrug. Hell was he to know? He didn’t even remember, but he supposed that _technically_ was his fault in the first place.

A frustrated groan filled the air. “I- _I can’t heal you_ if you don’t give some insight on what happened!”

Draco sighed, risking a small look to his stomach. Big mistake. Black ick oozed out from the gaping hole, sputtering out in ugly clumps of red. He could feel the bile starting to force its way back up his throat, but swallowed it down, hoping it would stay down. No wonder, Potter sounded worried. An injury this bad, could make anyone revolt, and give a small hint of pity...or worry. He couldn’t really tell the difference anymore.

“ _Malfoy!_ ”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I-I don’t know,” he confessed.

“What do you mean _you don’t know!?!_ ”

“It means _I DON’T fucking know!_ ” Draco coughed out. “I...I just don’t..know. I don’t know...I.. _I don’t_..”

He looked up at Potter and never had he felt so relieved. This raging storm, alive... _breathing_ before him. Perhaps this world had something to hope for after all. If not, Lily would at least be able to get a couple normal years in life, before it all ended. A shame, he wouldn’t be there for those special years of hers.

His lips curved up ever so slightly, at the thought. Maybe they’d make Lily one of those horrid Weasley sweaters. She’d _love_ it.

The man before his gave him a small sneer. “This is no time for _jokes_ , Malfoy!”

Draco let out a small husky chuckle. “Trust me, Potter. This is _no_ joke.”

“Oh, save me the bullshit!” Potter huffed, words dripping from his tongue like venom, and Draco wanted nothing more than to drink up every last bit of that poison. He too, wanted to cut this bullshit.

“I’m not..I-I _really_ don’t remember.”

Potter gave him a small vary look. “ _How is that even possible?_ ” he asked, unfazed.

“Hell should I know,” Draco lied. Oh, _he knew_. He’d been the one who’d done it in the first place.

Potter sighed. Warm fingers pulled at his bandages, carefully peeling them off, and cringing as they came in contact with the sickening blobs of puss. It was disgusting. It really was.

“Wait here,” Potter said, more of an order than a request. Draco almost let out a small whine as the warmth left his skin. He did, however, let out another broken sob as the tall raven exited the room.

It felt like ages. Years, before Potter came back in, holding a ceramic cup, with some sort of paste. A revised version of the Pepper-up potion mixed in with a little bit of Skele-Gro. How did he know? _He’d made it._

And only he knew how painful the process of applying it would be.

The bed dipped, and Draco bit his lip bracing for the agony that was to follow. “Hold still...this might pinch a little.”

Draco wanted to laugh at the obvious lie. It wouldn’t just pinch, it would burn. And burn it did. He screamed. Trashed, and tried to curl up in his own body, snarling when Potter kept him pinned to the bed with his left arm. “LET GO!!! STOP! _PLEASE PLEASE_ POTTER!!!...IT _HURTS_!!! AGHHHH!” Draco begged, sobbing and convulsing violently.

“Shhhh,” came a soothing voice, but Draco could hardly care at this point. It hurt... _it hurt so fucking much!_

“Please....please, _Potter...please_ ..” he whispered, broken. The tears blurring his vision and leaking from his eyes like an open faucet. “Please... _Harry please_..”

“Shhhh...shhh..it’s ok..” was all that came in return, and it made Draco’s blood boil with rage. Another smear of the paste, and he howled. Wailing, and screeching like a wolf in transformation. “Shhhh..it’s ok. _You’re ok._ ”

Oh, if only Potter knew, he was _far_ from ok. He was in pain. So much pain, and he’d put him here! Draco could hardly think straight. Why? _WHY?!_ Why was he still being put through his?! _HAD HE NOT DONE ENOUGH?!?!_

Why... _why?_

His silent question remained unanswered, as rough hands pried his mouth open, pouring what he could only hope was a drought of peace. His minds numbed, senses dulling to the point where he could hardly feel as much as a buzz. A peace drought. A highly complicated, and difficult potion to brew. One that he, himself still had trouble with. The ingredients had to be put in a precise order, mixture stirred exactly the right amount of turns, and the heat of the flames simmered to the exact temperature for the perfect timing, before adding the last ingredient.

_“Why?”_ he found himself asking, almost craving for the answer to this question he couldn’t even begin to understand. He wasn’t even worth such effort. Wasn’t worth this potion. Fuck him, if he was even worth as much as a sickle. So why? Why put this much in for him. Why not just let him fall into the bliss of endless sleep. He’d be more than happy to sleep forever. Never needing to wake up again. Not having to deal with reality ever again. Not having to put the effort into dreaming...living...or _breathing._

He could just fall into this illusion of bittersweet nothingness. Draco supposed it was selfish of him, but then again, could you blame him? For wanting to have even the smallest taste of this forbidden fruit. One taste. Just _one look_ would be enough. _Was it really too much to ask for?_

“ _I can bet you ten galleons you didn’t brew this potion,_ ” Draco slurred, not really sure why he bothered saying anything at all, but he supposed it was worth it.

Draco swore he heard Potter laugh, before letting the pleasure of warm fingers running through his hair lull him into fabricated bliss.

 

_-o-_

 

“I want to leave.”

“ _No._ ”

“Potter.”

“ _I said no_ , Malfoy! What about it don't you understand? Don’t even bother trying to argue with me! I _won’t_ hesitate to tie you down to this bed if it should _ever_ come to that.” It was a warning. _Typical._

“So what? You’re going keeping me prisoner here?!”

“No...I’m keeping you _safe_.”

Draco fell back against his pillows in disbelief. “Safe, _my arse!_ You’re keeping me prisoner!!”

“Deem it as you may, Malfoy. Either way, it’s not going to change my mind.”

Draco glared, turning his head away from the raven. A part of him wondered why Potter even cared.

 

...

 

“So...how is she?”

“ _She?_ ” Potter asked confused.

Draco had to refrain from rolling his eyes. How was it Potter could be _this_ stupid, was beyond him. “My _sister_. How is she?”

“ _It’s a she?!_ ” Potter shrieked.

“Yes,” Draco snarled. “ _It_ is a she!”

“Oh C’mon! You know I didn’t mean it like that!” Potter tried.

“ _Sure you didn’t!_ ”

“Look-”

Draco cut him off. “Oh spare me the bullshit, Potter. Just answer the fucking question!”

“Asleep. The fever has come to a bay, but I doubt a little bit of sleep would do any harm.”

Draco nodded, relieved with the answer. It was enough. Knowing she was going to be ok...was enough. _Just enough._

“Why do you even care?” Potter asked after a long pause. “I can clearly recall you saying, she was nothing more than another _burden_ on your shoulders.”

Draco looked up at the ceiling, feeling just about as empty as it looked. “I think we both knew that it was an obvious lie.”

“ _Why?_ ”

“Why indeed?” Draco asked, more to himself than to the raven that sat only a foot away from his frail, shivering form. “ _Why indeed._ ”

No one knew the answer, and the silence killed him. _If only it could end it once and for all..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a short chapter, but I hope you guys like it! 
> 
> See a mistake? Tell me! Both criticism and praise is appreciated! Thank you!


	10. Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco runs, but Potter won't let him go that easily  
> Warnings: Self doubt. Suicidal thoughts. Minor bits of torture. Flashbacks. Implied child abuse.

Draco knew what he was doing was wrong. Selfish, and horribly wrong. In fact, it was _disgusting._ He let out a small smile, as Lily giggled stuffing her face with a fork-full of chicken, practically mimicking Weasley’s actions from across the table. They were in complete sync, stuffing their faces with as much food as they could, and then gobbling it down with a gulp of pumpkin juice. From the corner of his eye he could see Granger scoldinging them.

He looked down at his own plate. Full, and turning cold waiting for him to put it into his mouth. He poked a small piece of meat, pressing it into his mouth, and chewing slowly. Draco savoured the taste. Salt, with the tanginess of the lemon bursting onto his taste buds.

It tastes good.

_And it made Draco want more._

It was wrong, and he knew it. To be sitting around this polished table, adorned with candles, and piles of endless food. All seats full, with their owners smiling and laughing like there was nothing to hurt them. Draco looked back down at his plate away from the sparkling sight. His mouth watered, and stomach churned for him to eat.

Draco pushed around a piece of lettuce around with his fork, debating on whether he should take the bite. Whether or not he deserved it.

He pressed down on it, pushing another peice into his mouth. The favour the same, but this time Draco wanted to spit out. It was disgusting and _he was so fucking selfish._

By the time Draco had looked back up, half the table was already gone. Mr. Weasley had long finished his food. He could hear Lily’s laughter and Mrs. Weasley’s laughing from kitchen. The twins were long gone, and the only ones that remained on the table were Potter, Granger, Weasley who was on his third plate full, and his little sister. They were joined in on some conversation about going out later...and Draco was....just listening.

He was invisible.

Sitting at the end of his table, just watching, _and..._

 _...He was back at his manor._ The glass table covered with white silk, and long. He sat at the end, watching his father eating quietly from across the empty surface. His hands were wrapped around expensive silverware. The metal cool and soft against his skin.

_He was eating._

The quiet sobbing of elves ringing in his head.

_A bite._

And a blood-curdling scream echoed from the hallways, laughter following it. Fear peaked at his very skin, his hands trembling, the slicing of his knife cutting through raw meat.

_A bite._

Draco chewed slowly, feeling the food slide down his throat like water. Slipping past his tongue, and feeling it fall into his full stomach. It’s vulgar.

_A bite._

Draco wants to throw up. His father, and mother are eating without care, and he’s....he’s eating too. He doesn’t want to, but he does, stuffing another mouthful into his mouth.

_A bite._

His parents are leaving, and he’s still eating. The painted screeching and silent whimpering playing like music. A melody only he seemed to be able to hear. One made just for him.

_A bite._

He doesn’t look up. His plate is yet to be finished, and he’s eating again. The meat tasting like the screams of the man in capture. The wine tasting like the tears of the children who he’d seen break down as he took their fathers, and mothers away from them.

_A bite._

He swiped his tongue over his lips, feeling the saltiness of his own tears. He’s started to cry. Draco hadn’t noticed. He continues nonetheless.

_A bite._

The plate is empty, and Draco feels the slightest bit proud of himself. His stomach feels horribly stuffed threatening to come up, but he gulps it back down. Eyes shifting to the side, he takes in the figure of a curled up shivering elf on the porcelain tiles. Bones prodding from his torn, moldied clothings. Chains clawing into their skin spilling dirty blood all over the white. The elf is quiet. _Ghastly quiet_.

Draco closes his eyes, the white turning to a warm brown. Heat from candles piercing his skin, and the feeling of a bent knife, with a plastic fork welcoming. Opening his eyes, he’s back at the Weasleys’. He takes a look at his plate.

It’s empty, and the smell of fresh meat and fruit still busting through his nostrils. He feels full. Every ounce of his stomach stuffed with the contents of his plate. His lips tug up the slightest bit, and Draco looks up at the rest of the members around the table.

_Empty._

...he starts to cry.

 

_-o-_

 

“Lily wants Draco to play too!! Draco plays too!!” the toddler spoke, smile blinding. The others gave a distasteful look, but he paid no heed. His sister was looking at him with hopeful eyes, and if this was her wish, then so be it.

He took his seat on the ground next to his sister, wincing slightly at the small sting in his stomach. It was a simple game of wizard cracker-pop it. Draco snapped his neck to the side a little, cracking his knuckles, and let out a wide grin.

“I’m going to beat all of your sorry arses.”

Weasley scoffed, and Draco spared him a challenging look. Potter, and Granger only watched them from the sofa, not bothering to join in.

A couple games later, the victor had been decided as Lily. She’d popped the most matching crackers and eaten almost half of them. Draco let out a small laugh, watching her as she gloated, rubbing her victory into Weasley’s brooding face.

Oh, he’d taught her well.

 

_-o-_

 

“Where are you going?”

Draco turned around to scowl at the familiar raven. “What’s it matter to you?”

Potter raised an eyebrow.

Draco grumbled, pushing the broom behind his back. “I was going out for a walk. I am sick of being cocooned in the pighole. Surely you wouldn't have a problem with that, Potter, or are you planning on keeping me locked in this house for the rest of my life.”

Potter frowned at his insult towards their home. “It’s past midnight, Malfoy. Last time I checked, people don’t go on walks in the middle of the night, and especially not with a broom.”

Draco looked away. “Maybe I was planning on flying a little bit too.”

“Don’t _lie_ to me, Malfoy!” Potter sneered, causing Draco to take a small step back.

Draco kept his gaze away from Potter’s emerald eyes. “I’m not lying,” he tried, voice coming out more broken than convincing.

Potter straightened up, and reached out for his wrist, pulling him to the exit of the door. “Hey! Let go of me, Potter! _Potter!!_ ”

His demands were left ignored, as the raven pulled him across the hallway and down to the exit. Potter’s grip on his wrist was tight, as he opened the door, the brisky winter air greeting him almost instantly.

“What are you–” Draco started, but was cut off, as Potter pushed him outside. He looked up startled at the raven. The raven stepped out with him, shutting the door behind him.

The raven was quiet for a moment, arms crossed around his chest, and waiting for Draco to do something. Draco only gave him a confused look, “ _What?!_ ”

Potter sighed, and started to walk trotting ahead of him, his footprints digging deep into the snow. “Come along. _We_ are going to take a small walk.”

Draco groaned frustrated, but followed Potter nonetheless. “If you didn’t get the memo, Potter. I wanted to walk _alone.”_

“No.”

“And why not?!”

“I know you better than you think, Malfoy.”

“ _You know nothing!_ ”

The raven ran a hand through his hair, and gave Draco a disappointed look. “Fine, you give me your broom, potions, and wand, and I’ll let you go on a walk... _alone._ ”

“I–I can’t..I nee–” Draco let himself stop there. He knew where this was going. There was only one way to get out from the barrier around the house, and that was through flying. The barrier was broken from the top as though it were a room but without a ceiling.

He needed to fly to get out and to fly he needed the broom, and if he gave the broom or potions to Potter, then he wouldn’t get out, and if he wouldn’t get out and if he didn’t get out he’d endanger everyone's lives here...he’d be the reason they died.

Draco swallowed.

He knew he had to get out...away. _They_ were after him, for something he didn’t remember doing, but knew he’d done. Something important enough for Draco to erase parts of his own memories.

“Fine,” he muttered through gritted teeth. He held out his broom to Potter who snatched it away from his gloved hands.

“Potions, and wand too.”

Of course Potter wouldn’t forget that, and that made Draco bite the inside of his cheek harder in frustration. Without another word, he unbuckled the satchel hidden underneath the safety of his cloak, handing it to the raven, who took it without hesitation. Oh if Poter knew the wand was useless, binded with magic, he had yet to understand.

“Now leave me alone, Potter.”

Potter gave him a hateful look, and turned to leave, but stopped in his tracks. “Don’t try to leave again, Malfoy. I won’t be so kind next time.”

“I wasn’t trying to leave.” Draco wasn’t sure why he lied again. Potter already knew, and he wondered who exactly it was he was trying to convince. The threat posed from Potter was a problem, but he’d have to find a way to get around it.

After Potter had left, he proceeded to walk around the barrier, pressing his palms against the invisible wall, and watching as his touch sent ripples through the surface. It was as though he were looking through a thin wall of water.

He had to find a way out. Without...Potter or anyone else finding him.

If he was going to die, he’d rather as well die somewhere away from his sister. Somewhere where she wouldn’t be the first to find him...but if it came down to it. He might just have to end his own life here.

Draco didn’t want to die, but he wouldn’t risk their lives over his selfish wants to live.

He didn’t.

 

_-o-_

 

Draco hugged and kissed his sister goodnight. Her eyes were brighter now, and her speech a little better. He walked out the door with a smile, but it fell as he reached is own room.

He’d found a way out.

Draco stood in his room for a moment, not sure exactly what to take along with him. His wand was useless to him, and his broom now in custody of the one and only saviour of the wizarding world. The potions he’d made from earlier were poured down the drain.

He held the probity Probe tight in his hand, careful to not touch it with the shard of glass just yet.

It was an experiment.

Draco didn’t know if it would work, or not. It was a simple Probity Probe. A device that enables wizards to sense dark artifacts. And with that, it should be able to break through pure magic, if concentrated on one spot. Thus, the glass.

Draco swallowed, trying to ease his nerves, as he tiptoed down the hallway, sparing one last look into Lily’s room before exiting the house. If he was lucky he’d survive 2 days at the most. But that’s only if he was lucky.

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the invisible barrier, where his footsteps stopped. The night with Potter, he’d stuck to tracking his steps along the house just as a way of knowing he was really here. _He_ was here. _He_ was...alive. And he longed to live for more, but he knew he shouldn’t.

His eyes shifted long his tracks surrounding the house in a circle. There were almost gone now, his holes being filled up with the snow, and a part of him wondered if he disappeared, if anyone would care at all. If anyone would notice.

He smiled at the irony of it all. Just like these footsteps, he too would make a hole in the snow. One everyone would be able to see, but it would only be a matter of time before the snow covered it all up. Only a few moments before he became invisible, if he wasn’t already.

Hands trembling, and breath shaky, he gripped glass shard, placing it against the barrier. The touch sending gentle ripples through the surface. It didn’t take long before he pushed the probity probe up against it. The cool metal of the probity probe pressed flat against his hand, as he tried to feel his magic.

He imagined it’s look like water, but gentle. Flowing softly in wisps through the tips of his fingertips to wrap itself around the pole to the circular end of the probe. Soft ripples turned to violent waves moving across the mass of the barrier all the way around the house. It gave off a soft glow, which was only turning sharper by the second. The area around the probe, turned a neon blue, almost white, but he could still make out the blue tint. He winced slightly, eyes narrowing as the intensity of the barrier glow. It shone bright, no doubt already alerting the residents of the house.

He knew Potter and Granger were light sleepers. Weasley slept like a rock, but all of them slept with their blinds open. You’d think they’d cover their windows in fear of being seen by outwardly dangers, but they were bloody gryffindors. All mighty, and looking out for danger rather than hiding from them.

Draco wouldn’t say he hid...more like run. He’d run. Farther away than any of them, so far they wouldn’t be able to catch up with him. He was running from the top to the bottom, and it was so fucking lonely. So empty.

Everyone thrived for the top. Everyone wanted to rule...to be the best, to be the fittest of them all. Draco just wanted to run. Get somewhere away from others. Somewhere away from himself.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and oh how much he fucking hated it.

He couldn’t even do something heroic without crying. Why was he this _weak_? What ever made him this afraid?

He could hear voices coming from behind him. Yelling out to him. Complaining. _Judging._ His name doused with suspicion, and mistrust on their poisoned tongues.

Draco didn’t dare look back, as the probe slowly began to slip past the barrier, the light flaring up against his skin. It was warm...burning. Scalds and hot welts began to form on the tip of his skin, and he let out an anguished cry.

The yelling behind him was getting closer, but he couldn’t make much out of it. The buzzing of the barrier filled his head, his fingertips numb. The brope slipped further past, the tips of his finger just barely grazing the barrier.

Draco turned around, and gasped as a frenzied Potter reached out to him. His hand outstretched and so close Draco almost thought he wouldn’t make it.

_Almost._

His skin pierced through the barrier and before he knew it, Draco was on the other side. He looked up from his place on the ground, gaze meeting a violent shade of green. Potter was on the other side. Banging his hand against the barrier.

Ripples flowed along the barrier like waves trashing up against the ocean side. The raven looked disheveled. His glasses missing, and eyes wide with rage. Anger. Dry lips moved, yelling something, he couldn’t hear. Potter’s fist pounded against the invisible wall, bruises forming at a frighteningly fast pace. Skin breaking, and spilling blood.

Another hit, and violent splotches of red on the unseen wall.

Draco cowered on his spot on the other side. He could make out a hazy figure of Granger rushing out of the house, followed by Weasley. They were yelling something at the raven, and oh how he wished he could hear.

The pounding came to a stop, and Draco turned his attention back to the raven who in return gavehim a calculated look. Potter had already long given him a warning. _This was no warning._

Scrambling back in fear, Draco whipped his head around, rushing up onto his shaking legs.

He ran.

Sprinted through the woods without as much as a look back. Hell, he didn’t even now where he was going. He just had to get away. Away.

The branched cut through his skin, like small daggers hanging from the ceiling.

_Away._

He didn’t look back. Couldn’t afford it. Potter, and his gang was no doubt already catching up, and with final look Potter had given him, he didn’t think the raven was going to relent any time soon.

_Away._

Draco didn’t know how much time had passed. His running had turned to a fast jog, muscles aching and begging for a res, but he didn’t stop. The back of his throat burned with bile, and the cold air.

_Away._

He was sure how long it’s been since him escape. It all felt too fast. He knew it had to at least have been a couple hours. The sun was peeking just barely above the horizon, sending ragged ray of orange from the creese of the hills. The snow, giving off warm orange hue mixed in with a soft scarlet. The sky was still dark, but clouds forming with a coral outline.

Legs turned to jelly, and Draco tipped forward, his body rolling down the hill like a limp doll. The snow pushed up inside his cloak, barely audible to his numbing skin.

Draco lay there was a while, his back pressed against the ground, breath frantic trying to get some oxygen in. His vision focused dazed up at the sky before him.

This could be the last time he’d see it. The last time he would feel the warmth of the sun on his skin, or the bitter rouch of snow. The wind brushing through his hair. The memory of his Lily’s blinding smile. The pair of emerald eyes he’d grown to love all too much. The memory of Molly’s cooking...Mr. Weasley’s old childhood stories, which he was sure were being exaggerated but interesting all the same. Granger scolding the pair. Even Weasley’s fucking hand me down. The ones he was wearing right now. He remembered it all, and he wished he would die remembering them.

If the fates were lucky, they’d grant him death here and now. A peaceful sleep, filled with his guilty pleasures. He could die now. Freeze to death, watching the sunrise, and of how beautiful it would be.

He’d never pictured dying with such a pretty sight. He’d always thought he’d be standing at the end of a cursed wand gleaming an electric green. Maybe the fated were being merciful. Feeling pity for his devastated self.

But nothing good ever lasted.

Black filled his vision, and Draco let out a broken sob. Heart clung to the edge of his skin as goosebumps spread across his forearm like wildfire. White masks, adorned with black brail, came before him, covering the beautiful sunset. A pair of arms grabbed him from behind the armpits, pulling his broken figure up.

“No no no no..please..god now,” he pleaded, a tiny part of his hoping they’d feel sympathy. “No...nO.. _NO NO! NO!! PLEASE!_ ”

He screamed as they drug him across the snow, his feet kicking, but to no real away. “LET ME GO!! NO! _I DON'T’ WANT TO_ ...LET GO. _LET GO!!_ ”

“Do not resist,” a voice came from one of the masked figures beside him. Draco froze. He’d recognize that voice from anywhere.

“How could you?” Draco hissed, betrayal flushing through his blood. Rage mangled in with unbearable terror filling his lungs. “ _I SAID HOW COULD YOU?!?!_ ”

Draco snarled as they pushed him up against the bark of a tree. He glared at the masked figure as it raised its wand up to him, mummering a quick spell.

Thick ropes whipped out from the light at the tip of the wand, wrapping themselves around him. They dug into skin, the twine like the blade of a dull knife.

“ _Where is it?_ ” the masked death eater came up inches away from his face. He could feel the gremly breath escaping the mask from the small slit on the mask.

He pressed his face farther into the bark, not getting much farther away. He attempted to bite the Death Eater rather than bothering to answer. His teeth snapped onto empty air as the masked man took a step back.

Draco almost let out a chuckle, but the sharp pointed end of a want found his jaw first. He let out a crackled cry of pain, as it left a sharp cut on his jaw, the skin around it throbbing, and no doubt already bruising. “ _Where is it?_ ” the voice hissed, threatening and violent all the same.

Why was it all so violent? So... _so violent._

“Where is what?” he replied back, almost mockingly. Only he knew it was a genuine question. One that once knew the answer to, but no more.

Another hit to the jaw. Draco winced as another sharp pain bolted through his skull. Ears ringing, and head slightly dazed. “Don’t play games with me, traitor! You know exactly what I am talking about! _Where is the horcrux?_ ”

Horcrux? Was that what he had done. Hidden this horcrux somewhere even the Dark Lord’s most trusted men couldn’t find it. He couldn’t help but smile in pride. He’d finally been useful. If what he had done was important enough to get the Dark Lord to order every single one of his followers out for his head, then oh how he would fucking love dying knowing they wouldn’t be able to anything to reverse his deeds.

“Traitor? Is that what I am now? Oh, how forgetful you’ve become, father. Do you not remember the name of your _only_ son?”

Draco swore he could see the sneer that his father sent him from behind the safety of the mask. “You are no son of mine. You were disowned the moment you turned your back to the Dark Lord. _My only son is Liliath._ ”

Draco let out a pained laugh. “Oh thank fucking god! I can finally be rid of this disgusting name you’d so graciously bestowed upon me!! I NEVER WANTED TO BE A FUCKING MALFOY ANYWAY!” he yelled despite the scratching in his throat. “ _Not if it means ending up like you, Mr. Malfoy._ ”

That earned him a knee to the stomach. Draco tried to topple over pain, but the ropes held tight to their promise, rending him immovable. “Shut up! Answer the question, traitor. Where is it? And where have you hidden _my son?”_

Draco ignored the first question. He had once known the answer to that one, but no more. “You won’t be getting _her_ anytime soon. _She’s safe, and most of all, away from you,_ ” he yelled in a hushed whisper, as though trying to tell a secret.

This is where the warnings came to an end.

His ‘father’ waved a hand to the side, motioning the other cloaked figure up ahead. They raised their wands up at him, all beginning to glow an pretty crimson. It was ironic. How a spell used to hurt so many could look unbearably beautiful. “What this, Mr. Malfoy? Too much of a fucking _coward_ to do it yourself, so you’re getting the others to do your dirty work?” he mocked.

His father didn’t say anything. Only shipped his wand up, motioning the others aside. Draco knew he was furious. He’d seen what this spell could to to others. Heard it. Smelt the rotting and burning of their flesh as they broke to a whimpering slobbering mess. And as the spell began to pour out from his father’s cursed tongue, he found himself looking up at rising sun from above his father’s cloaked figure before closing his eyes bracing himself for the pain that was to come.

“Cruci–”

“ _EXPELLIARMUS!_ ”

And chaos broke free. _Bloody fucking Potter._  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! I know it's a late update, but I hope you guys I liked it! I wanted to start a new Drarry Fan-fiction, and my impatient ass wouldn't let me wait to finish the other stories first. My other Drarry fan fiction is called, 'The Unfortunate Ones.' It's a zombie AU, where Harry has a mullet, and there is no magic. If it seems interesting to you, please go check it out! I promised it won't disappoint! 
> 
> See a mistake? Let me know! Both criticism and suggestions are greatly appreciated!! Enjoy~


	11. Futile Attempts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle erupts. Granger is on the ground withering from the torture spell. Potter is dodging the hexes, trying to win this meaningless fight. Weasley is taking shelter behind a tree..and Draco?
> 
> Draco just can't take it anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Suicide attempt, violence...some gore? not much...and cliche story plots.

Everything flashed like wildfire through his eyes. He was hearing but not really listening...feeling but not understanding. Draco felt detached. As though he were watching a movie unfold through his eyes. He wasn’t there...but he was there.

Watching...and not being able to a damn thing.

He was so... _so useless,_ and he fucking hated it.

His ears caught up with the barely audible sound of Granger’s painted screech, and for a moment, Draco wanted nothing more than to tear them apart for touching her. It wasn’t fair...they didn’t deserve this. Weasley stood behind the bulk of a tree trying to keep himself away from the bombarding spells which didn’t show any signs of stopping anytime soon. Potter was rolling off the side, dodging yet another spell, this one from his father. They were being overwhelmed...they were losing. It wasn’t until Granger’s screeched turned to violent screams and thrashes did Draco sob.

“STOP! STOP!!” Draco begs, tuning in with Granger’s own pleas of mercy. His voices left unheard, and Draco swears he’s never seen Weasley this angry before. It was his fault...all Draco’s fault. “... _please_..stop..”

The ropes holding him to the trunk of the tree fell, disappearing into tiny sparks of light as they hit the ground, letting Draco slump down against the rough surface. His father was using too much magic. Too much hate contorted into the Crucio that he’d placed upon Granger. She lay withering on the ground, shaking and trembling. Like Draco...she was shaking..trembling.

And it was so fucking selfish of him.

Draco looked around at the bloodbath folding out before him. A body draped in black cloaks lay crumpled before him, blood seeping through the small cracks of their mask. A blade lay tucked in the sole of the body’s show, jutting out, barely an arm lengths away from Draco.

The realization dawned upon Draco like cold water. They needed him alive. If this Horcrux important enough to have them send out a search party for him. Important enough to not kill him on first sight...they needed him, because to them, only Draco knew where the Horcrux was. Ironically, he didn’t remember, but it wasn’t as they had to know.

Like a mad dog starved for months, Draco made a wild dash for the dagger, gripping it tightly as he backed away from both sides. Granger let out another howl, and Draco placed the dagger up to his throat. “Stop father...”

No response...it were as though his voice had been drowned out amidst this chaos. Buried six feet under his own skin. No one saw him. “ _I’LL DO IT!!_ ” he warned...and _that_ caught his father’s attention. His head tilting to the side, but wand refusing to move from Grangers crippled self.

“I’ll do it,” Draco hushes. “You let her go, or I’ll slit my throat right here, right now.”

His father let out a mad cackle, tilting his head back. “You’re too much of coward.”

Draco joined in with his father’s cackles. “Y-you think I’m bluffing?” he lets out another burst of breathy chuckles, pressing the blade deeper into his skin, wincing slightly as the red pooled up, slipping down his neck in thick droplets, and just like that, everything came to a halt. The spells ceased, Granger no longer screaming, but panting with heavy gups of breaths. It was silent...and all their eyes were on him.

Draco was right. They needed him alive after all. He was the only one who knew where this Horcrux was. Had they found out he’d erased his own memory, and he no longer knew, they’d kill him no doubt, and kill the trio along with him. Or maybe they wouldn’t believe him, and torture him until he became like the slobbering man he’d seen in the dungeons. Drool slipping from his mouth, eyes rolled up, body still, but alive. They wouldn’t give the mercy of death.

“M-Malfoy,” he hears a voice from behind him. It was Weasley, voice cracking almost horrified, Draco doesn’t fall for it. He knows it’s not real. He knows they don’t actually care.

“Don’t sound so worried, Weasley. It’s not that bad.” Draco whispers in the shunned silence, almost in disbelief. His father makes a reach for him, but Draco steps back, pressing the blade deeper. “Uh uh...You come anywhere close to me, and I’ll do it. I-I’ll do it.”

“Draco...stop this nonsense at once!” his father bellows from beneath the mask.

“Oh..so now it’s Draco?! Wasn’t I a _traitor_ just a few moments ago?!” Draco yells, deranged, heart thumping at the speed of a thousand horses. “Let her go..let her go or else–”

He pressed the blade upward to prove his point, crying out in pain. His father lets out a snarl, pulling Granger up by her hair, and shoving her over to the trio. She stumbled for a bit, before falling limp in Weasley’s arms.

Draco felt a wash of relief wall over him. He welcomed it. Weasley ran his hands through her hair, cradling her lithe body. Granger was a strong woman. Draco wanted to remind Weasley that, but he figured it really wouldn’t matter. Granger wouldn’t break. She wasn’t glass. If anything, she was a force to be reckoned with. The brightest witch in all of Hogwarts.

Oh, father didn’t know what was coming after him.

“Draco..” His father’s voice is soft. Something, Draco hasn’t heard in a long time. He finds warmth in the lies hidden behind that spark of love. “Put the knife down.”

  


“ _Why?_ ”

  


Silence. Nobody knows why he should stay alive. No one wants him. No one needs him. Maybe they did, but not for the him...they didn't want _him_. They wanted his secrets.

Wasn’t that why Potter, and his family had tried to nurse him back to health. So they could find out all they could about the dark lord? Draco wasn’t a fool. He’d heard them talking. Trying to figure out what to do with his useless existence. He’d heard.

“D-Draco please...” Weasley croaks out, voice breaking. He looks terrified, but Draco could hardly care. It wasn’t as though it was their fault. It was his fault. Always his.

He didn’t want to think anymore. He was done.

So fucking done.

Draco thinks about his sister, taking a step back. She’ll be fine. She’s young. She’ll get over it, and he was sure the Weasley’s would take care of her. Draco was replaceable.

He chokes out a sob, his hand faltering slightly. _‘This is it,’_ he thinks, looking up at the rising sun.

  


_‘It’s finally going to be over.’_

_‘Thank you.’_

  
  


Pain greets him like a bolt of lightning, spiraling up his arm, and crackling down his spine. Draco had expected it to be painful, but it was a risk he was willing to take.

Except..this time, it wasn’t him that caused the pain. It was a stinging hex. Draco gasps, feeling the knife fall out from his burning hand, and he looks up to see Potter standing before him, wand raised out in front of him.

Potter hurt him. Potter... _saved him._

Cries, and spells rang out through the air, and Draco snapped his head up to the sky, crying as Mr.Weasley and his group of aurors came swooping down on their brooms. The whole scenario felt like the cliche endings from the old fairy tales he’s read when he was younger.

They were here...to save them. _To save him._

The realization hit him like a bullet. Ripping through his flesh, tearing and digging deeper with every growing second. He scrambled for the knife laying discarded in the pile of snow. Draco dug into the snow, reaching for the blade, but Potter was on him in an instant, knocking him over sending them both rolling down the hill, away from the fight.

“ _NO! NO ARGH LET GO!! LET GO!!_ ” Draco screamed, trying to push the raven off him. He thrashed around in the cage that Potter’s arms had created. “LET GO!!”

Potter didn’t listen instead, flipping them over, pinning his wrists in an agonizing grip. “It’s okay,” the raven whispered softly, but Draco wasn’t having it.

He looked around at the battle surrounding them, a painful reminder that he was still alive. “What did you do?!” he screamed, trying to get out of the hold, but it was half-hearted. “... _w-what did you do?_ ”

Potter holds him, and Draco breaks down. Crying, and sniffling in the other’s shirt. He looks pathetic, and weak, yet Potter holds him, ignoring the calamity unfolding around them.

He cries harder, falling in love with the hand running up and down his back softly. It feels so real, and Draco doesn’t know what to make it. Waves are crashing over him, but Potter keeps him afloat. Pulling him back from under the water to the surface, refusing to let him to back under, even if it kills him.

“P-please,” he begs, not knowing for what.

“Shhh,” the raven whispers into his ear. “It’s okay. I’m here... _I’m here._ ”

A stray spell hurls towards them, but Potter still doesn’t move. The raven grits his teeth, as the spell hits him in the back. His gaze doesn’t falter, those piercing emerald eyes staring into Draco’s, refusing to budge.

“Move!!” Draco tries as another spell finds its way to Potter’s body. He hits Pooter, smacking his fists against his body in a desperate attempt to get the raven to move. “Move! Y-you’re getting hurt! Move! _Move!!_ ”

Potter coughs, blood dribbling from his lips. “No.”

He leaves no room for argument, and Draco slumps in his arms giving up. It’s a war he can’t win. He takes in Potter’s ridiculous outfit. Pajamas covered in a series of comical owls, and a night-shirt in the most hideous yellow Draco had ever seen.

“ _Y-You look fucking hideous_. What type of monster wears fucking mustard yellow with neon pink pants?”

Potter holds him tighter, letting out a pained chuckle. “It’s not that bad.”

His lips graze against Draco’s neck, and he could feel the warmth of Potter’s breath along with the wetness of the blood seeping out from the raven’s mouth.

“It’s monstrous,” he mumbles into Potter’s shoulder.

The raven lets around another laugh, despite the battle commencing around them. Draco holds him tighter, as though it would protect Potter from the chaos unfolding around them, but it doesn’t do much. Potter lets out another grunt of pain, biting his lips too keep him from crying out.

It’s his fault Potter’s getting hurt, and yet Draco couldn’t help but say the two words stuck on the tip of his tongue.

  


“Scared, Potter?”

  
  
  
  


_“You wish.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! It's a really short chapter, but I tried my best to update as soon as possible. I promise to make the next one longer. Hope you guys like it!
> 
> See a mistake? Tell me! Both criticism and suggestions for the plot are greatly appreciated.  
> P.S I wrote this at 12 at night, and didn't have the will power to grammar check or read it over twice.
> 
> If you liked this story, you can also check out my other two Drarry fanfics!   
> "Fuck you too, Potter!" where Draco is an insomniac, and Harry is an asshole. (Dark Harry)
> 
> and there is also "The Unfortunate Ones," which is a zombie AU.
> 
> Feel free to check them out! Thanks!


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